Prologue
Mother always wanted a daughter. She always wanted a daughter and I only ever wanted to be myself. They don't talk about the expectations placed on you when you're the only daughter of 7 kids (especially when they'd been trying so long for you). So of course Mother would want her baby girl to be more lady like. It's restricting and heartbreaking every time I'm trying to do something that makes me happy and then I hear the shrill pterodactyl from across the Burrow, "Ginevra Molly Weasley don't you dare even think about it!! I mean it!!". All I have ever wanted is the freedom to be myself and escape the high expectations that she wanted for me.
It wasn't just her though, all of my brothers thought that I would be some weak git. One of the benefits however of growing up with Fred and George was the consistent opportunity to sharpen my tongue and my mind. Every time I was forbidden to do something, I would grow more and more defiant whether little by little or one giant leap of passionate fury. I would be damned if I let my mother tell me who I am and who I should be. My brothers thought I was somewhat bratty with the way I'd tell her to bugger off but that rarely ever dissuaded me. I knew that I had the choice of letting them to turn me to some docile flower or if I would have to make my own way no matter the heartbreak and disappointment I'd see in their eyes. I'll never understand the intense need others have of making you someone who you're not. I'm speaking like they were so bad but it could have been worse. At least they understood what our mother does, whether they were willing to stand up for me or not. Fred and George at the least were never good at letting her rip me apart. They were still my brothers and I was still their sister. They had different expectations for me but they also knew that I would never let someone tell me who I am or what to do. When it felt like the whole world was falling apart, I had them. Didn't matter what she said to attempt to manipulate me into her creation, I was always able to count on them to cheer me up.
I kept it quiet when I stole their brooms and trained myself how to fly. I didn't know whether they would help me or if they would rat me out to Mother so I kept my mouth shut and worked in the dark. It was stressful and I was always waiting for the moment I'd get caught but it didn't matter. What mattered to me was the feeling of the wind in my hair and watching the world fly by in a heartbeat. Once I wrapped my legs around that broom, only one word entered my mind. "Freedom." Freedom, something I wanted more than anything, even my own life. I would never allow anyone to infringe on that one singular goal. With every night, I rode higher. With every cloud I passed, my will was burning brighter and brighter. I never wanted to come down ever again but if I was caught, my midnight joy rides would come to an end and she would try harder and harder to force me into her cage. I swear, sometimes I would do things just to ensure she'd become angry. I mean at first it broke my heart that she couldn't accept me but eventually I came to revel in the way that her wrinkled old face would twist and turn at the smallest of things. There was truly nothing more entertaining.
I heard stories about the Dark Lord from Fred and George, usually as a way to torment me, the prats. They'd tell me everything they knew about him and tell me he'd come back and kill me if I wasn't careful. I knew they were full of it but sometimes it'd peak my interest. I wanted to know what took out this mass murdered that everyone feared to mention so much. I mean surely it must be some legendary wizard who's going to take out the "darkest and most evil wizard the world has ever seen". Of course this lead me to the legendary tale of some snake skinned prick being killed by a defenseless baby. Everyone is terrified of the Pillsbury Dough Boy looking wizard who was killed by a baby? Yeah okay makes sense, doesn't make me feel like I'm surrounded by children even at the age of 7. I often pondered the question of why the boy's only mark from a killing curse was a lightning bolt strewn across his forehead. I hoped to some day in the future meet this "legend" who enacted such a feat and find out for myself why, but I figured that would never actually happen... right?